The Healing Process
by CaitlinWalker
Summary: Beckett's sick and Castle takes it upon himself to look after her whilst also trying to fill in for her at the precinct. All the while, Beckett slowly begins to open up to him. Set mid-S4. (DISCLAIMER - I do not own this perfect little show.)
1. Chapter 1

Something didn't add up. 9am, the precinct was slowly filling up yet Kate Beckett was not at her desk. She wasn't in the break room or the locker room. He'd even dared to stick his head around Gates' door only to be met with an angry stare from the captain but no Beckett.

The coffee was starting to go cold. Castle resisted having his as he always liked to start at the same time as his muse and the woman he once proclaimed his love for. Where the hell was she? The boys hadn't seen her and he was too scared to ask Gates. Sure, there was a murder, only paperwork today but it was not like Beckett.

Her phone went to voicemail and Castle's anxiety spiked. His writer's instinct was looking for the story, the drama and made him think about the sniper that had almost killed her a couple of months ago. Not to mention almost dying, her PTSD episodes a few weeks back scared him even more. She was starting to crumble again, at times pushing him back. He loved her and whether she was going to acknowledge her feelings for him anytime soon, he had to be there for her.

Castle left the lukewarm coffee on her desk, making a sharp exit from the bullpen. Hailing a taxi, he mumbled his destination to the driver and arrived outside Beckett's apartment a half hour later, thanks to typical New York gridlock.

His hands hovered for a few seconds before he knocked on the door. No answer. He tried again. A bang, something falling from the other side of the door. "Beckett? Are you OK in there?"

The response was slow in coming. "Go away, Castle."

She sounded groggy. Tired? Drunk? Hurt? There was no chance that he was leaving before he knew for sure that she was OK. "I'm not leaving, Beckett. Not until you open this door."

"Not happening…and don't you dare try to kick it in."

The more she spoke, the worse she sounded. "If you don't open that door, I'm getting Ryan and Esposito to come down here. Either that or I'll start singing, complete with cool dance moves that'll want to see. I have no shame. I'm Richard Castle, after all." Nothing. "C'mon Kate. Please open this door."

Castle was all ready to pick out a song from his limited repitiore when the door flew open. Not hearing her coming, he jumped.

"You're not going away are you?" Kate's eyes were red, underlined by dark circles. A comforter wrapped around her shoulders barely hid her mismatched pyjamas.

He ignored her question. "You…you don't look well."

"Way to point out the obvious genius." She rubbed her eyes. "Now, you got your answer. Can you please just leave?"

He shook his head, pushing past her into her apartment. "Not a chance."


	2. Chapter 2

Beckett slowly followed the man who had just invaded her apartment. "This isn't necessary, Castle. I'm a big girl, this is just the flu. I can look after myself just fine."

Castle plumped up a cushion on her couch. "Au contraire, Detective Beckett. If I may say so, you look terrible-."

"Hey!"

"Compared to your natural, beautiful self, that is. Anyway, as I was going to say, you're ill. Right now, you look like something out of The Walking Dead-."

"You really know how to flatter a girl don't you?"

"Compared to the natural beauty of Detective Beckett. Man, can you stop interrupting? Again, back to the point. You're ill and I'm not going to leave you. What would happen if you fell in the shower? Or fell out of a window when you go to open one? See. I cannot leave you alone for the sake of your safety."

Beckett bit down on dry lips. For once, she didn't think she was going to win this one. "I guess…"

"Good. The patient complies." He patted the cushion on her sofa. "Not sit. Or rather lie."

Her feet followed his commands but her half-dead brain was a little behind. "I have a bed you know…"

Castle gently took hold of her shoulders to direct her to the leather three-seater. "Nuh-uh. Bedroom? Clammy air, no doubt covered in your germs. Living room? Fresh, spacious and no doubt less germy. Now down."

"I'm surprised, Castle. Surprised you didn't want to get me into bed." She attempted a laugh but stopped hearing his own pained laugh. After the declaration of love a few months back, she should've been more careful. It was a touchy subject and one clearly neither were ready to address yet. "I'm really tired, though, Castle. I just want to get some sleep."

He pulled the comforter up, tucking it under her chin. "And sleep you will."

Beckett stopped her eyes from fully shutting. Squinting, she looked up at him. "Wait. Are you going to stay here?" Castle gave a grin that she didn't like. "OK, I appreciate the concern and your help but you'd be better going home. Have-." Her phone that she'd abandoned on the table buzzed yet again.

Castle snatched it before she stretched out a limp arm. "Castle, I mean Beckett. No, I'm not Beckett, I'm Castle." He sighed. "This is Detective Beckett's phone."

Now it was Beckett's turn to sigh. Hearing Castle mutter a series of "Yes", "Mmm" and "certainly" filled her with a sense of dread. Concluding with an "I'll be right there" made her feel even sicker than she was – she didn't think that was possible. "Castle, please don't tell me you just answered my phone…"

"I would Detective Beckett but time is of the essence. That was the lovely Sheila from dispatch…there's a murderer about!"

"Castle…" She found the strength to grab his arm before he sprinted away. "Just…don't tell anyone, OK? I don't want any flowers…or cards…or personal visits from Gates to check I'm not faking."

"I understand. Your secret's safe with me." He tapped his nose and winked. "Wait, what should I tell them?"

Beckett, desperate for that beautiful sensation of sleep, let her eyelids flutter close. "You're a writer. Use your imagination."

# # #

"Yo, where's Beckett?" Esposito looked up from the vic's body as Castle ducked under the yellow crime tape.

"What? Not even a "Hi Castle", "Yo, Castle" or even a friendly acknowledgment of my arrival? Just "where's Beckett?" I know you cops look out for your own but that's a very writerist attitude."

"Castle, we saw you at the precinct this morning. You want a grand entrance every time we see you or what? Man, you celebrities."

Ryan appeared, almost out of nowhere, to back up his partner. "Yeah Castle. You writer types. What next? You want us to ask you for an autograph every day?"

Castle joined in with their jest, laughing as it put off the topic of his own partner's whereabouts. "I'd rather you'd kiss my shoes but whatever works."

"Yeah, funny. No chance in hell. Now where's Beckett?"

Damn Esposito. And Ryan. Boy, they make a formidable tag team. The scrawny, yet quick one with the Special Forces veteran with guns of steel.

"Castle? What the hell's wrong with you, dude? We've asked you that question about ten times now," said Esposito, folding those big arms across his chest.

"Well…" Think damnit. What sort of writer couldn't think of an idea? "Detective Beckett is otherwise engaged." They weren't satisfied. Details. That was what was needed. Details. Think. If this was a Nikki Heat novel, where would Nikki be? Actually, maybe not. Nikki Heat would probably be tied up in a mobster's garage or shacked up with Jameson Rook. Neither one of them could be translated into the real world. Something else. "Her dog's sick."

Esposito's eyes narrowed and he shot a glance at Ryan, communicating telepathically. "Since when did Beckett have a dog?"

"It was a stray, sneaked it her apartment and you know Beckett, she couldn't help herself. Now, isn't there a murder to solve?"

"Body's not going anywhere, Castle." Ryan flipped his notebook shut. "You know, me and Jenny have been thinking about getting a dog. What breed is Beckett's?"

"Um…"

"And what's its name?" Esposito added, taking a step closer as he pressed for the answer.

"Um…" What did Castle know about dogs? Or dog names? Even though he could picture Beckett's look, that scary silent look that said oh so much without a single word, he couldn't do this. After all, she was sick. What was the worst she could do? "Um, ok. Guys, I'm gonna tell you something and you can't make a fuss 'cause -."

"Beckett's sick?" Ryan answered and Castle nodded. "OK, understood."

"And that's it? You don't want more details; you don't want to go 'round to hers?"

"Hell no," exclaimed Esposito. "I remember a few years back, before you showed up, when she was ill. And I mean, almost to the level of fainting. Montgomery had to send her home, actually physically force her home in the back of a cruiser. Don't get me wrong, I care about the woman but we're all best to keep our distance from her right now."

Ryan nodded in agreement and shot off to talk to a uniform who was trying to catch his attention.

"Noted," said Castle, although he was intent on doing everything to not keep his distance from her and not leave her alone.

"But Castle," Esposito leaned closer, lowering his voice. "She's just sick, isn't she? 'Cause after all that stuff a few weeks back, I was starting to worry about her."

"Yeah, just sick. Thankfully." Those memories of the sniper in New York City were still far too fresh in Castle's mind too. Beckett crumbled those days and it broke his heart. There was never going to be a simple fix but he hoped she was starting to get over that day back at the captain's funeral. "Now, where's the vic?"

"Over there. His name's Victor Sanchez, twenty-two from Brooklyn." Castle followed Esposito over to the shirtless body slumped in the doorway of a goodwill shop. "No priors. The kid volunteered here."

Lanie was crouching beside the body looked up. "No Beckett?"

"No," said Castle beginning to wonder if people actually cared about him. He put a hand to the side of his mouth and whispered, "She's sick."

"Oh." Lanie nodded. "Got you. Warning received." Warning received? What the hell had he let himself in for? "So, Mr Castle are you filling in for her?"

"I guess I am," he replied with a mischievous grin and wink. "So, what have we got?"

"Single gunshot wound to the abdomen. I'm guessing close range due to the muzzle burn around the wound. We've got bruising and cuts along the arms and face, so it looks like he was attacked first then shot. Maybe self-defence." Lanie glanced up at Castle. "You got that?"

Castle faked a smile, glancing over his own shoulder at Esposito. "You've got that right?"

"Pay attention, Castle. Man, would it be better if I emailed it to you?"

Castle's smile was genuine this time. "Why, , that would be fabulous, thank you. Good job. Now boys," he called for Ryan and Esposito. "What do we do now?" Again the formidable tag team stared him down.

# # #

Beckett heard the fumbling at the door. Keys jangling as they hit the floor, a not so silent curse following. She rolled her tired eyes at Castle's poor attempt to remain quiet. She glanced at the clock, seeing what time she'd awoken at. Five forty-seven. He'd somehow managed a whole day without her, providing Gates hadn't kicked him out of the precinct. And, she'd no visitors. He'd somehow managed to keep his mouth shut too.

"Oh, you're awake." Castle slammed the door shut with his foot and placed a grocery bag on the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, you woke me, you idiot. What's in that?"

He peeked into the bag as if he didn't know himself. "Tins of soup, fresh fruit and vegetables and a whole lot of goody goodness. Oh and and…" He went digging in the bag, right to the bottom before he emerged, grasping a DVD case. "A little something that might make you feel better."

She took the item from his hands and gasped ever so slightly. "Temptation Lane? Castle, this, this is…wow."

He perched himself on the edge of the sofa. "I remembered that case when the show's writer, Sarah Cutler, was murdered. I remember you saying how you watched it with your mom when you had your tonsils removed."

"Castle, that's so…" His eyes were soft, a warm smile on his face. "Sweet. Thank you, Castle. I really mean it."

"You're welcome."

She smiled back. "You wanna watch it with me?"

That twinkle came back into his eyes. "I'd be delighted to."


	3. Chapter 3

His eyelids were starting to droop, his elbow loosing friction on the shiny desk surface. He could feel eyes watching him, no doubt counting down the seconds until – bang! Castle's forehead smacked against the wood and he suddenly sprung alert. "I'm OK, I'm OK," he tried to reassure everyone, including himself.

"Yo man, what the hell is wrong with you?" Esposito yelled in the direction of Castle.

"Not get enough sleep last night?" Ryan asked, although the answer was surely obvious.

Castle rubbed his forehead that was already turning red in colour. "I was at Beckett's." He looked up at them, in anticipation. "Get your minds out of the gutter, please."

The smiles quickly faded from their faces. "Take it she's not coming in today either?" Ryan asked.

"She OK?" Esposito got in before Castle could answer the first query.

"Honestly? Not really. I thought she was getting better last night but she puked up like everything she's eaten the past week in about twenty seconds. I stayed the night – on the couch- just in case it happened again. It did. Thrice." He held up his fingers for emphasis.

"Man…" Esposito muttered. "See, this is what makes Beckett Beckett. When she's sick, she's sick. There is no in between."

"How is she today?" Ryan rose from his seat, coming to stand beside Castle who'd hijacked the ill detective's desk.

"Fever, sore throat, more puke. She's not doing so well."

"Should you have left her?" Esposito came across too.

"No, but this is Beckett we're talking about. She was pretty darn insistent that someone had to keep up appearances at the precinct if it wasn't her. I didn't want to but I made a compromise that'll check on her in the afternoon."

Ryan nodded but quickly looked at his partner, communicating silently with him. They both scarpered back to their desks. "Mr Castle!"

Castle physically jumped at Gates' voice, knocking over a cup of pens on the desk, sending pens rolling everywhere and destroying Beckett's neat and tidy system. He stood up and turned around in the captain's direction. "Morning. Don't mind me I'm just…making a mess. As usual." He quickly added.

"So I see." She folded her arms across her chest. "Where's Detective Beckett? I need to have a word with her in my office."

"Beckett?"

"Yes, you know the woman with a real job who you follow around like a lost puppy."

Ouch. What had he ever done to Iron Gates? But, putting grudges aside, this would have normally been the time to think on his feet. However, he'd run this through with Beckett earlier this morning. "She returned to the scene this morning. She wanted to check out the neighbourhood first hand."

Did she buy it? She didn't blink or seem to judge him anymore than she already did. "Well, OK then. Just tell her than when she does actually show up here, I'd like to see her." She turned to leave.

"Wait."

"What is it now, Mr Castle?" Death stare. Not as scary as Beckett's patented stare but scary nonetheless.

"Is it urgent? I mean it's a pretty big neighbourhood and you know our Beckett, she leaves no stone unturned, no bin not rifled through. Who is to say when she'll return? I don't know…could be days at her rate."

"Incredibly unlikely. I'd have thought with three and a half years of, what you'd call police experience, you'd know that crimes typically get harder to solve the longer you don't hit the ground running. No, it is not necessarily urgent, but I'd like to have a quick word with her anyway. I'm sure she could spare five or ten minutes."

He waited until the captain disappeared into her office before he was safe to pull a face and then turned back to Ryan and Esposito. The latter was on his phone, the former standing close as if listening in. Castle hadn't even heard the phone ring nor Esposito talking until now. God, he was tired. Esposito was right. Kate Beckett didn't do things by halves. If she was ill, she was deathly ill.

"That's great, thank you." Esposito hung up, slipping the phone into his pocket.

"What's great?" Castle followed the two detectives like he always followed Beckett, which was never like a lost puppy as Gates put it. He'd like to think, if he was a dog, he'd be the hapless but useful Dogue de Bordeaux. Like Turner and Hooch, as Beckett had put it. Except he drooled less.

"That was dispatch. We've got reports of a break-in at our vic's apartment," Esposito called, a good few metres in front of Castle.

"Oh, Ok. I call shotgun," Castle started to jog but Ryan stopped in his way.

"No, Castle. You're going back to Beckett's."

"But…what…but? I said I wouldn't check on her until after lunchtime."

"Castle," Ryan placed a hand on Castle's arm. "Beckett's a proud person but right now? I don't think she's in any position to be left on her own. And plus? You've got to somehow get her in contact with ol' Iron before she suspects something's up."

Ryan ran off in the direction of his partner, leaving Castle standing in the middle of the precinct. He was right. Kate did need him whether she'd admit it or not.

# # #

"Beckett?" Castle called as he entered her apartment with a set of keys that he had stolen. His heart skipped a beat as he heard a thump coming from a room to the right of him. The bedroom. "Beckett?" He slammed the front door shut with his foot, quickstepping it to her bedroom. "Kate," it came out as a whisper as he saw her slumped in the doorway, half dressed in a bra and a pair of jeans.

She looked up at him, eyes glistening with tears. "Rick," she replied, breathless.

He lowered himself to his knees, his eyes never leaving her face. "You OK? Did you fall?"

Her eyes closed and she rested her head against the wooden frame behind her. "I thought I was fine…then all of a sudden, my head started spinning." Her voice had a tinge of unfamiliar vulnerability.

"Hey, it's OK." He brushed away the sole tear on her cheek with his thumb. "So, I take it, you were getting sick of pyjamas, huh?" He joked but she didn't reply nor respond. "Hey, you weren't trying to go somewhere, were you? If it was the precinct, you needn't bother…me and the boys have got it covered."

Her eyes half opened, a smile tugging at her lips.

"What's so funny?"

""Me and the boys"" Her following infectious laugh turned into an equally infectious spluttering cough. It took a few seconds to get it under control. "I thought you weren't coming back until this afternoon…"the boys" kick you out?"

"Well…"

"Ha. They did."

"We're worried about you. I'm worried about you. That's why I'm here." She was fighting back the tears again, that wall crumbling. It was hurting him just as much as it was hurting her. "Kate…"

She took a deep breath. "I…I had an appointment this morning with my therapist."

"Cancel. After all, like this you're in no shape to do physio. You've just proved you can barely stand."

"No, Rick. With Doctor Burke…my psychiatrist."

Castle stammered. "I-I had no idea you were in therapy."

She nodded. "I wanted to keep it quiet but I guess it's out there now. And if I can't go…Castle, I need someone to talk to right now."

He smiled softly. "Always."


End file.
